Those Winter Sundays

     Oftentimes, I wish the title of this poem felt like it should right now on this night in November. When I read this poem, I think of a snowy morning that just makes you feel cozy inside. This, however, is not what this poem is about. Robert Hayden seems to be talking about his father from the perspective of a child in times that a furnace did not replace the hard work of a man to provide shelter and heat to his family. I assume that this setting existed in the past before such electricity was available. The poem is almost written as a recollection of his father when he was a child and he wished he had not taken him for granted. Just in the way he said, "No one ever thanked him," in the last line of the first stanza just depicts the fact that the father was the guy who was behind the scenes and kept doing what he would do for his family, even if he was never given appreciation. I noticed that the stanzas went from 5 lines to 4 to 3 to 2 in sequential order. I am currently baffled at the author's technique or strategy with using this structure, but I feel like it helped the poet to climax his last two lines: "What did I know, what did I know/ Of love's austere and lonely offices?" With out this countdown setup, I feel like the lines wouldn't have meant as much as they did or even have any impact to the audience, but it seems that Hayden "frames" these last words with his stanza structure.
     I found this poem interesting and heartwarming through the setting, although reminiscing and somber in tone. It just simply makes me think of Christmas morning.